


A family of Gunpowder and Ice cream

by ShippingsandDeamons



Category: RWBY
Genre: F/M, Mpreg, Mute Neo, Post Volume 3, closet pyro!Roman, mentions of character from volume 4, vuage allusions to giving birth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-14
Updated: 2019-06-14
Packaged: 2020-05-07 20:06:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19216588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShippingsandDeamons/pseuds/ShippingsandDeamons
Summary: A rewrite of another fic with a similar name.Just a fluffy, slightly citrusy story about Neo and Roman awaiting their firstborn child, with a little twist.





	A family of Gunpowder and Ice cream

There was something about living in the woods, or being in them in general, that invoked a sense of calm and peace. Maybe it was the quiet; the stark contrast of the quiet murmuring of the wind compared to the boisterous livelihood of the city. It could also be the gentle way the midday sunlight would filter through the leaves and pine needles in a dappled patchwork of sunshine and shadows. Or maybe it was the way the wind would brush through the branches, causing them to sway and brush up against one another. It didn’t really matter, the forest was relaxing, even to a pyromaniac who’s fine had been firm in her law of “No dear, you are not setting even one tree on fire”.

One Roman Torchwick sat on the top step of the front porch to his and Neo’s home, nursing a cup of tea hot enough to give fire a challenge in both hands. Neo was away at the moment, shopping for essentials in some nearby settlement. No Salmen, no Cinder, no White Fang. It was nice; life was nice. Sure, the crime boss and his partner weren’t out causing mayhem and mass destruction like they once did, nor out robbing some unfortunate soul of his life’s savings. But the little domestic life they’d now carved out for themselves was good, because they had each other.

“Gha! Ow!”

Hissing in mild pain, he almost dropped his scalding, third-degree burn inducing drink (he always did maza people with his ability to drink literally boiling drinks), one of his hands came to pat his swollen stomach gingerly. It wasn’t the first time this had happened, and it wouldn’t be the last just yet.

“Geez brath, can’t you be a bit nicer to your poor father, those were MY ribs you just kicked.” He grumbled.

And people wondered why pregnant mothers were so moody and irritable.

If Neo were here at the moment, she’d likely be cackling silently at his suffering as she’d place her hands on the baby bump. 7 months along with their supposed bundle of joy, and Neo refused to ever not look proud of herself and her accomplishment whenever she saw him. Like that cat who’d gotten the cream (cue Roman turning red and grumbling at his partner).

They had been partners for a long time, practically their entire lives had been spent guarding each other's back and working in tandem to survive. Both were street rats, and in the slums, only the strong and clever survived and thrived. Together they were both. He trusted her completely, something no one else could boast, and vice versa. Neo was the only person he’d ever consider starting a family with, only one he was willing to have a child with- even if he was the one stuck having to actually carry the damn brat.  
At the start everything was fine. He easily lived without the alcohol (it was a rarity in their current life anyhow), and the occasional bout of nausea was fine. But the first two months or so were always a breeze. Now, only two months away to term, he was sick and tired of this shit and very ready to get this damn thing out of him. The odd cravings and apatite were fine, the shrinking bladder was tolerable as was the need for a new wardrobe. But the cramping, back pain, swelling, kicking, and morning sickness? That he could live without thank you very much. At least he had Neo there. Whenever the kid started acting up, she would caress his stomach and pepper the stretched flesh with butterfly kisses to help take his mind off the fact that he was pretty sure the damn brat was going to break his ribs.

“Neo should be home soon… I’ll wait inside.”

Guzzling back the rest of his tea like it was a pint of ale, Roman used the wooden railing to help heave himself back onto his feet. Their cabin in the woods was a cozy little thing bing enough for them and the coming addition to their family. The baby’s room had been finished easily on into the pregnancy so they wouldn’t have to worry about it later down the line, when he was big and bloated and so done with it all. It had never occurred to him in the past just how time-consuming and hard it was to make a tinny human until now, when he was making said tiny human. It was a good thing they were on leave from organized crime, he was in no shape to be robbing banks and dust shops. The extra weight had thrown him off kilter, reducing his balance down to a minimum, and thanks to the fact it felt like there was a 10-pound weight strapped to his stomach, it made moving around quickly just short of impossible. Not the ideal situation to be in when speed is important for escaping the cops.

Het set the dirt cup down in the sink. He’d wash it later with the dinner dishes, save him the time and effort. He waddled over to the couch and flopped down. Standing up for too long killed his ankles, which tended to make the swelling worse. His hands settled into their familiar place underneath his protruding belly, supporting the firm, stretched flesh. Children… It was something neither of them had thought long and hard about until after the fact. Was it a boy or a girl. They didn’t know, getting an ultrasound was too risky, so it had been forgone early on. They’d just have to wait and see what popped out, literally.

 

The midevening dusk was slowly growing darker, the warm hues of red, orange, and dusty golds slowly giving way to cool violet, indigo, and blue. With the lights off inside, it was practically night time already. Neo caressed his stomach as she usually did around this time; a nightly ritual of sorts, whispering and cooing sweet nothings to both unborn infant and parent, all wordlessly due to her muteness. Having worked with her for so long, he was a master at reading lips, and thus knew every word that left those voiceless lips of hers.

“Neo no, I am not going through this a second time.” He replied dryly.

Neo smirked up at him in her usual coy manor.

“You say that now, love, but give it a year and you’ll be begging me to nock you back up.” She responded, mouthing her words instead of signing (another thing he was a master of reading), so she could feel ever kick and shift of the baby, of their baby.

“Ah yes, because I am most definitely going to miss the nausea and swelling- not,” He responded, words dripping with desert dry sarcasm. “not even you’d want to deal with a pregnant me and a screaming infant brat at the same time.”

Neo chuckled, weight shifting to her knees so she could lean forward and nuzzle his cheek.

“You underestimate me, love, underestimate how much I adore seeing you glowing and pregnant like this. Heavy with my child, our child.”

The Neopolitan haired woman settled back down to pepper soft kisses over the plain white shirt covering his stomach. Her eyes practically glowed with pride and joy as she drank in the sight of her beloved and their unborn child. Roman himself sometimes found himself feeling giddy with anticipation, in those occasional times when it was just him and the child alone. He blamed it on the hormones, but damn if he didn’t feel maternal in those instances. That still didn’t mean he was going to let Neo talk him into having a second bundle of chaos any time soon. He’d be the one carrying it, and right now once was enough.

“I can’t wait, there’s so much I want to show them, and so much to teach them. They’re sure to be the bane of any teacher, and an even bigger bane to the law. They’ll have you beautifully cunning mind, and my deadly charms.”

“They better, this is a law-breaking family here, no child of ours is going to be growing up an upstanding citizen. Not on my watch.” He agreed.

Theirs was a family of criminals; of liers, cheaters, thieves, hitmen- street rats who were damn good at their jobs and got them done well. They were the shame that the kingdoms tried to brush under the rug, but never could quite do so. This child would grow to be a force to be reckoned with, even if by some miracle then ended up of the lawful alignment. They would be a hurricane. He would teach them all there was to organized crime, the best places to find good help of a decent price, the best ways to rally one’s subordinates, all the little flaws in Atlas’ best security that couldn’t be programmed out no matter how hard they tried. Neo would teach them her craft; how to be terrifying. How to make yourself look weak and helpless, luring in your pray until it was too late to run.

“Love, what would you want to name them?” Neo asked.

It was a question they asked each other off an on, but one that was reoccurring more and more often now that he was so close to the due date.

“Hmm, I’m think molly if it’s a girl, and Robert if it’s a boy.” He replied with a shrug. “Or maybe I’ll take a page from your book and go with something interesting like Napalm, orMolatove.”

“Well, if they get your hair, Orange sherbet, my pink hair, either strawberry or bubblegum, my brown hair, mocha or some kind of chocolate.”

He snorted, it was always like that with her. Not that it was surprising coming from a woman named Neopolitan who had one side of her hair colored pink, the other colored a fair cocoa brown, and had streaks of white through both. He wasn’t complaining, hell would freeze over and then join heaven before he ever even considered selling one of her quirks for all the riches of this world.

“If they get your hair and mine then We’ll have to name them Rainbow Sherbert.” He replied as a joke.

Neo smiled up at him. Something dangerous flashed in her bichromatic depths, and then her smile did a 180 from soft to devilish. The bed creaked as the tiny woman shoved her lover into the pillows, pressing her face into her lover’s bust, hands sticking to his pregnant flanks.

“Neo he snapped, voice cracking.

He stiffed a groan as she nuzzled his chest. It wasn’t anything terribly now, but it was another thing he was ready to say good riddance to. His chest had become increasingly sensitive as the pregnancy progressed and his body began producing milk even though the child hadn’t even been hatched yet. Couple that with the increase in circulation also thanks to the pregnancy, and Neo found ways to bring him both to knew highs of pleasure, and to new depths of desperation.

“What’s wrong dear? Feeling a little ‘full’ at the moment?” She japed.

“No Neo, not now, I’m too tired and pregnant for sex!” He groaned.

“Who said anything about sex? I’m just about to milk a certain someone~.”

“Neo no!”

"Neo yes."

 

He knew what contractions were, had read up on them in the first few months of his pregnancy when he was doing research on the process. That did not mean he was prepared for his entire lower torso to seize up and hurt like hell. It also didn’t mean they had the okay to cut him open and be done with it, unfortunately. No, they needed to wait until his contractions were less than a minute apart before they could proceed. That meant several hours worth of pain and suffering.

“Come on love, walking around will help ease the pain.” Neo coaxed.

After the first round of contractions, Roman wanted to do nothing more than curl up on their bed and wait out the rest of this hell. But, as Neo had lovingly pointed out, that would mean several hours of just waiting inbetween pain. At least when moving around he could focus on more than just the contraction. The pair were staying inside, Neo didn’t dare risk taking him outside, not in his condition. In the house, it would be easier to defend him from Grimm. And he’d sure as hell attract quite the hoard of Grimm if he did so.

“Geeze, and I thought getting eaten by a fucking Grimm was bad!” He groaned as another contraction passed.

“Heh, probably seems preferable to giving birth.” Neo quipped.

“You can say that again, at least then I wouldn’t have to feel like someone’s squeezing my insides!”

“Yeah, that way all I’d need to do is cut open it’s stomach to save you, not have to cut open your stomach.”

Time ticked by in the fashing, Neo chatting with him as she walked him around the cabin.

The fall of beacon Acadamy had been brutal, for both of them. That night, Neo had been terrified. The last she’d seen of Roman was him getting swallowed whole by a Grimm before she’d been swept off of the airship. She had been almost certain then that the one thing in this world she treasured most of all had been taken from her. She’d sliced the Grimm’s belly open expecting to find a corpse at best. How shocked she’d been to see Roman, very much alive, claw his way free from the incision gasping for air and hissing like a half-drowned cat. They ran away after that, she spirited him away to the cabin they now took up residence in.

In that time between then and now, none of Salem’s lackeys had come looking for them. Either the grom looking lady hadn’t noticed the pair's absence from her ranks, or she didn’t care. Maybe she thought the two of them were dead. It was a wishful thought, but after almost a year of no Cinder arriving on their doorstep, kicking the door open, of no Tyrian coming to kill them, of no Hazel coming to say hi, she allowed herself to give in to such thinking. And she didn’ want them coming, not now, when Roman was so close to giving birth to their child and they could finally be a happy family.

10 hours ticked by like water droplets down a waterfall. They were closer now, but there was still ‘pleantry’ of time before she could put her husband under and bring their child into the world. They were sitting on the couch at the moment to give Roman some time to rest. Neo was rubbing his stomach in an attempt to ease the pain.

“We are definitely not having another one!” He hissed.

“Just wait until after when the amnesia hormones kick in, you’ll be eating those words within a year.” She replied.

The tension had broken a little when Roman’s water broke. The way he’s practically shrieked as the body fluids soaked the groin of his pants and trailed down his legs had caused her to laugh. It was the home stretch now, his contractions were 10 minutes apart. With so little time between, they’d stopped moving around as much. She herded her husband towards their bed and had him settle down. She checked her tools one last time before the operation. She’d already cleaned the hell out of them, but they would have to be sterilized again after she put him under.

 

Waking up didn’t magically ensure that the pain was gone, but thankfully it was only a dull ache. Going by the warm, fuzzy buzz that left his head a bit foggy, he was still coming down from a painkiller high. He was alone in the room, Neo elsewhere. A small part of his stomach revealed that it was all over, the maternal swelling reduced to a slight pudge that would also go away as he recovered. So it was finally over… Thank dust.

So, this was it; they were finally parents. The notion still felt so foreign, so alien. Sure, he’d just endured 9 months of being pregnant with the brat, but it was still so strange to think of himself as a dad (or would it be mom?)  
“You’re finally awake? Good, our son’s hungry.”

He was finally no longer alone in the room. Neo walked towards him, cradling a white bundle in her arms delicately. The edge of the bed dipped silently as she sat down, showing him just what was in her arms exactly. The brat was pudgy as a marshmallow with baby fat, just as they wanted, a few wisps of his ginger hair decorating his scalp. Neo had called it their sone, right? The pink and brown haired woman handed him the bundle. Something about the exchange made the boy wake up. Pale pink eyes cracked open as their son began crying and making grabby hands at him. Neo helped ease him into a comfortable sitting position supported by a small mound of pillows. He undid the top few buttons of his shirt and eased their sone up to his chest.

Their brat latched on as soon as he knew food was within his grasp and began suckling on his first meal greedily. A slight shudder traveled the course of his spine, but nothing serious. It was different from when Neo did the same thing (sort of), but similar at the same time. Next to him, she smiled.

“So, what’s his name?” He asked.

“You alright with Orange Sherbert?”

“Yeah, that sounds fine.”

Oranger Sherbert Torchwick. Welcome to the family.

**Author's Note:**

> updated this one, and am planning to use this idea in a fic coming soon.


End file.
